


Boy Problems

by Estelle



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: M/M, connor's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 03:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2566400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estelle/pseuds/Estelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor doesn't have boy problems. Mostly, because there is no boy to have problems with.<br/>OR:<br/>Basically, he just really wants Oliver back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boy Problems

**Author's Note:**

> I still can't stand them being unhappy, so here's another one trying to make it right.  
> Also, I really wanted to write Oliver's mum :)

Michaela’s words still echoed in his head. The only one here with boy problems is you. “That’s not true”, he had wanted to say. “I don’t have boy problems!” Mostly, because there was no boy to have problems with. No on to go to after an exhausting day at work. No one to trade dirty texts with during a boring lecture. No one to fall asleep on the couch with while pretending that he was not interested in the sci-fi show they were watching. No one to cook him surprisingly good dinner after the take-out had gotten cold again because they were occupied otherwise. Just, no one at all.  
It wasn’t like he couldn’t find someone to fuck, of course not. Hell, he’d just sexted with six different guys at the same time, and if he went to a bar, he’d surely have no problems to pick someone up. He’d just smirk and look up through his eyelashes and whichever guy he chose would be his. And that had just gotten boring lately. It was too easy. They never talked back, they always let him get away with whatever shit he pulled, and they certainly never demanded to be on top. It just wasn’t what he wanted anymore.  
Really, it all came down to one thing: He wanted Oliver back.  
And for once, he had no idea how to get what he wanted.

He had thought about calling, but Oliver would just hang up, wouldn’t he? Or, if he still had Connor’s number, he probably wouldn’t even pick up at all.  
Texting was just way too impersonal, and Connor would certainly never write a letter. It had taken enough to admit he missed Oliver, he surely wouldn’t write him a love letter.  
So a personal visit it was.  
He should bring something, shouldn’t he?  
But food seemed just wrong, and besides, Oliver was the better cook anyway, so after some internal debate, he finally admitted that if he was swallowing his pride by apologising anyway, he could just as well bring flowers.

So now, he was standing in front of Oliver’s door with the biggest, prettiest bouquet he had been able to find, and he was nervous. Very nervous.  
When Oliver opened, he immediately narrowed his eyes, and frowned even more when he looked down on the flowers in Connor’s hands.  
“What do you want?”, he asked coldly, and Connor counted it as a success that he hadn’t shut the door in his face immediately.  
“Hi. Oliver. I uhm…” Before he could form a proper sentence, a female voice called from Oliver’s apartment. “Ollie, who is it, darling?”  
Oliver seemed a little embarrassed and Connor got the impression that he really didn’t want to meet whoever was there, but that choice got taken from him when a petite woman appeared beside him.  
“Oh, and who are you?”, she asked Connor, sounding delighted, then turned to Oliver. “Why are you making your boyfriend stand in the door? Look, he even brought you flowers and you don’t invite him in! Don’t be so rude!”  
“Mum! He’s not my boyfriend!”, Oliver explained resolutely, and Connor’s heart dropped a little at the final tone in his voice. But before he could interject, Oliver’s mother continued. “Well, then he clearly wants to be! Seriously, come in, please!”  
Oliver looked more uncomfortable by the second, and Connor felt the need to finally say something. “It’s not like that”, he tried to explain. “Well, you’re not wrong about the wanting-to-be part, but regrettably, I’ve been a completely asshole to your son, and he’s very right in not wanting me back, as much as I hope he would. I’m sorry I’ve ruined your day. It was nice meeting you. Goodbye, Oliver.” With that, he thrust the flowers into Oliver’s hands and turned around to leave before the situation could get any more awkward, though he doubted that was possible.  
This had probably been the worst attempt at an apology that he could have made. Not that he had much experience with these, but he was willing to bet that it couldn’t have been much worse.

Later that day, when he was debating getting really drunk to just forget this debacle, he was completely surprised to see Oliver’s name flashing on his phone. What could he possibly want?  
“Hello?”  
“Why did you say that?”, Oliver said instead of a greeting and Connor was confused. “What exactly? That I’ve been an asshole to you? It’s true, isn’t it?”  
“Yeah, but that’s not what I mean. The part where you told my mum you wanted to be my boyfriend.” There was a slight hesitation in the last word and Connor sighed. He really had said that, hadn’t he? Well, he figured it couldn’t get any worse anyway, so he decided to be honest. “Because that’s true as well.”  
“What?” Disbelieving, of course.  
“Oliver, I miss you. These past weeks, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I tried to distract myself, tried to just pick up someone else, but I couldn’t. Didn’t want to. It’s you I want. I know I’ve hurt you, and you have no reason to even believe me, but please, give me a chance. Please?” This was fucking difficult. Connor had never put himself out there like that, well, once, and that really hadn’t gone well, so now, when Oliver didn’t reply, he really hoped he wouldn’t get rejected again, even though it was probably what he deserved after how he had treated Oliver.  
Heart pounding, he swallowed. “Say something?”  
Still nothing, then: “Okay.”  
Okay? Really? Had Oliver just said okay?  
“A proper date. You take me out, we talk, and then we’ll see!”, Oliver clarified and Connor couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Yes! Okay, yes, I can do that!”, he exclaimed and thought he heard a small chuckle at that.  
“Good. Pick me up on Saturday.” With that, Oliver hung up and Connor let himself fall back on his bed, relieved. It was a chance. And he’d do better this time, he promised.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for all the lovely feedback on my other stories!  
> Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://hazelestelle.tumblr.com/)?


End file.
